


Carry Me Home

by Tatsumaki_sama



Category: The Magnificent Seven (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Blood and Injury, Bromance, Feels, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-01
Updated: 2018-02-01
Packaged: 2019-03-12 09:10:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13544199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tatsumaki_sama/pseuds/Tatsumaki_sama
Summary: Faraday has an odd knack for getting into trouble (it's a good thing he's got friends to look after him)





	Carry Me Home

**Author's Note:**

> I was re-watching the 2016 film and my love for all the boys were rekindled, especially a certain Josh Faraday. I also do not have any knowledge about 1800s first aid and medicine so please excuse any mistakes. There was no real plot other than having everyone live and stay together and go on some more crazy adventures.

They had not intended to topple another criminal empire so soon, almost one month after the affair with Bogue and Rose Creek.

 

But one of their own accidentally and unfortunately got involved and that made it their business.

 

Which was how Sam found himself following Horne further into the darkness of the cave where the alleged slave ring was founded, with Vasquez and Billy trailing behind. Goodnight and Red Harvest provided the distraction outside and from the sounds of shouting and chaos, they were doing a fine job.

 

Vasquez was swearing under his breath, muttering about all the things he was going to do to a certain Irishman for getting into trouble in the first place. Sam had half a mind to do the same thing.

 

Faraday had gone out for some drinks one night. Sam had reminded him they were to leave early the next morning.

 

He did not come back that morning. Or in the evening. Or the next day. Even Faraday, who had a heart and mind for alcohol and fun and mischief, would not have taken so long or run off without most of his things and Jack the horse stamping up a storm in the stables.

 

And so, their search and questioning around town eventually led to a few drunken confessions and frightened admittance of a slave ring cloistered underneath the bright cheery dealings of the town.

 

It was also how they found themselves edging further into the cavern that hosted the slaves, at the far side of the town, hidden away from prying eyes.

 

They found Faraday at one of the further cells, dark and damp. He was its sole occupant, most likely shoved in there due to bad behaviour or from attempts to escape.

 

Even under torch light, his face was bruised and one eye was swollen shut amidst the black and blue. In spite of that, he was grinning wide when he saw them. They could see the blood coating his teeth. “ Took your sweet time, didn't you?” Faraday drawled good-naturally like he wasn't a captive and made into a slave labourer.

 

There was a cold fury settling in Sam's stomach. Vasquez swore even louder. Billy looked downright murderous – more so than usual. Horne heaved a great sigh, murmuring to himself about tempering his rage, for the Lord would provide revenge in due time.

 

“ Please tell me you got my guns,” Faraday whined. “ Or at least my cards. That was my favourite deck of cards.” After a few days of quiet calm, it was almost a relief to hear Faraday's voice, cracking jokes and divulging meaningless chatter.

 

“ Goodnight and Red are working on that.”

 

“ No wonder I heard screams of terror outside,” he quipped. He leaned against the bars and they all politely ignored the fact that his limp was acting up. “ So, did you all missed me?” he asked.

 

They hardly slept. They spent most of their waking time searching for him. They lost their tempers far more easily. More than once, they wanted to tear their hair out at how _quiet_ and _peaceful_ things were without Faraday.

 

“ Not at all,” Vasquez cheekily replied.

 

~.~.~

 

Flickers of yellow and orange burned against Faraday's face, searing against the soot-covered skin. He twisted his hands fruitlessly against the ropes that bound him to the pole, feeling a wetness sticking over his wrists and wondering if it was sweat or blood. The ceilings and walls groaned as timbers fell and smoke billowed around him.

 

It was times like this that Faraday really really regretted flirting with the crime lord's wife.

 

It was also times like this that he really really wished that he wasn't captured and tied up like some damsel in distress so Red Harvest could have all the smug satisfaction of saving him (Red Harvest wouldn't say anything out loud anyways, the bastard).

 

Red Harvest managed to drag Faraday outside just as the roof collapsed and the rest of the building went up with a horrible screech of ash and smoke.

 

There, on the blissfully cool grass, he was too exhausted to move and Red Harvest remained standing, watching as the rest of the building burn and fall to pieces.

 

“ Water,” he distantly heard Red Harvest say as a rush of water from his canteen dribbled down his face and neck.

 

The momentarily relief was gone as quickly as it came as Faraday tried to inhale and immediately regretted it.

 

His chest burned, as if the fire had left the building and gone straight for his lungs. His lungs seized painfully, hammering against his chest. He felt as if his entire throat was rubbed with sandpaper. The burning sensation soon made its way to his watery eyes. The more Faraday tried to rub them, the more his eyes burned with a vengeance.

 

A reassuring hand pressed against his back. “ Drink,” a blurry flesh-coloured blob that sounded vaguely like Sam told him.

 

Faraday managed to drink whatever was offered to him, greedily gulping it down to soothe his raw throat. Recovering enough to raise his head, he squinted at Sam and Red Harvest with mocking annoyance.

 

“ Alcohol would have went down better,” he muttered.

 

Sam heaved a sigh as he was prone to doing these days, especially when it came to Faraday. “ A thank you would have been sufficed.”

 

“ I'll pay your tab at the next town,” Faraday offered as a consolidation.

 

There was a twitch at Sam's mouth but he didn't say anything.

 

“ I did all the work,” Red Harvest sullenly said, making Faraday laugh even if it made his sides hurt.

 

~.~.~

 

It only took a split second for him to be distracted (Faraday later cursed how his reflexes weren't as good as before) and a bullet entered into his right side.

 

He went down but by the time he managed to raise his head, his shooter went down and stayed down. Most men would not get back up with an arrow shot through his throat.

 

Vasquez was the one to reach him first. “ Is that all of them?” Faraday grunted, rolling over to his back.

 

“ _Si_ ,” he absently said, far more occupied with inspecting Faraday's new wound. He could feel the blood seeping through Faraday's fingers and he winced when Vasquez prodded a sensitive area. “ That bullet has to come out,” he added. “ Before the infection settles.”

 

A sudden thought clearly struck Faraday because next thing Vasquez knew, Faraday started giggling. He and the others were looking at Faraday like he was starting to go crazy – or perhaps they already knew he was crazy.

 

Faraday began wheezing. Vasquez was not sure if it was due to the pain or from the laughter. “ H-haven't been shot in that spot before,” Faraday managed to choke out before dissolving into another fit of giggles.

 

Vasquez squared his jaw. The others gave Faraday varying looks of humourless disapproval. It was clear they did not find it as hilarious as him.

 

_(Faraday did not remember when they all had to hold him down as the doctor dove in and plucked each blood-coated bullet out while he screamed and screamed until his voice broke down into hoarse whimpers)_

 

“ Be lucky it wasn't fatal,” Vasquez finally said. He glanced at Billy who was silently and unanimously voted as the one to take out the bullet – being the best with sharp objects and all – and was already rolling up his sleeves.

 

“ It will hurt,” Billy warned.

 

It was enough of a permission for Horne to practically sit on Faraday's legs, his weight alone driving out the air in his lungs. Sam and Vasquez took a spot near each of his arms and shoulders, pinning them down to the ground. Goodnight handed the knife, soaked in alcohol, to Billy.

 

“ At least let me drink myself into oblivion,” Faraday complained just as Red Harvest shoved a thick wad of cloth into his mouth.

 

“ Don't bite your tongue,” the Indian advised, serenely ignoring Faraday's venomous glare.

 

He opened his mouth to fire off a retort when Billy pressed the knife into his abdomen without warning and he arched back with a strangled, agonized howl.

 

Red Harvest and Horne were both murmuring, prayers and chants that became mingled with Faraday's muffled grunts. Billy worked quickly, only nodding at Goodnight if he needed something. Sam and Vasquez were silent sentries, hardly moving from their position.

 

Faraday's hands flailed and dug into the dirt. His feet scraped and struggled to find a way out.

 

He fought to flee but they fought to keep him down on earth.

 

~.~.~

 

Goodnight quietly and irritably decided that he was getting too old for this.

 

While he enjoyed the company of said unique group of men, having a feverish Faraday lean against his shoulder and fall asleep on him made him wish that Sam could have collected at least one more fine woman to join them.

 

The glare on his face kept any wisecracking and open smirks from the others.

 

Sam and Vasquez was out looking for wood and Red Harvest disappeared to wherever he chose to keep watch. Billy was whittling away at a bird figurine, though Goodnight could tell his old friend's heart was not in it.

 

“ Here.” Goodnight started to find Horne (how is it that such a large man could move so silently?) by Faraday's side and covering him with his own blanket. “ Far too cold these parts.”

 

It didn't appear cold to Faraday who was sweating up a storm and whose fever had yet to break. There was something unnaturally wrong with how still Faraday was.

 

It reminded Goodnight of when they found him out in the fields after tackling the gatling gun in a suicide run and how it took several unnervingly days before Faraday would open his eyes. They all thought they were going to lose him then.

 

 _Still a good chance of losing him now_ , Goodnight's mind bitterly thought. Faraday wasn't much older than some of the boys who had joined in the war, eager and bright-eyed, only to quickly lose their drive, their will and even their lives to the owl that sometimes continued to haunt Goodnight, even on his better days.

 

“ The good Lord will provide for him in ways we cannot,” Horne abruptly said, shaking Goodnight from his darker thoughts.

 

There was a mumble and both of them turned to look at Faraday who shifted, eyes remaining closed, and curled deeper against Goodnight's shoulder.

 

“ He will never hear the end of it when he wakes up,” Goodnight couldn't help but grin.

 

Horne tsked. “ None of your teasing,” he disapprovingly said, much like the father Goodnight had never cared to know about. “ The boy's got enough on his plate.”

 

(regardless, they all jumped in to mercilessly pester Faraday once he was back to his usual grumpy self and they wouldn't have it any other way)

 


End file.
